Manhattan Mice and the Warehouse Monster
by GiftsofGab
Summary: Based on "Newsies", but with a twist, these pape-selling mice live in the sewers of Manhattan but come up to do their jobs. Join several of the Manhattan mice as they explore a rumor that's been going around... A pape is a newspaper.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_**Welcome to Their Life**_

In 1916, the sewers of New York echoed with the voices of newsies, peddling the papers of Samson Hearthlol, Jonathon Peter Null, and other "giants" of the newspaper world. On every street corner you would unknowingly pass them as they were carrying the banner, bringing fellow mice the news for just a few cents a pape. Poor orphans and runaways, the newsies were a ragged army who sought to achieve their dreams above all…

Daniel walked along the streets of the upper world. He had always had a certain fascination with humans and their habits, though most mice didn't think there was much of a difference between the two species. Daniel was a sturdy little guy. He was a pure white mouse and a friend to almost everyone. He wore the same outfit just about everyday: a blue pinstripe shirt with dusty, brown knickers. Between his ears was a Gatsby hat that was a soft brown. He had a bright pink tail that was often tugged on by his good friends.

Friends, friends… Daniel knew everyone in the colony beneath DeLancey Street, but his two best friends would have to be Smalls and Abigail.

Smalls had a dark brown pelt that was often messy. He was half rat from his father, and though being such was frowned upon, he would never let that stop him from living his dream of selling newspapers. He wore a white shirt with black suspenders. He had black knickers, as well.

Abigail was also a white mouse. As much as she loved to work as a newsie, Abigail found it more of a goal to obey her father's wish for her to grow up to be a beautiful lady, so she wore dresses and skirts, even to sell papers. Not that Abigail was unattractive without those things. She was the most beautiful mouse around after her mother had passed away. While selling, Abigail was known by the title of Catch.

Daniel neared his favorite hangout, The Wheel. This was a lovable bakery and cheese shop that had a cellar that was good for breaking into. This is where the Manhattan newsie mice would have their meetings every week. Now, as often as you may hear that mice like cheese, this is not true amongst the crowd of them living in New York City. Crackers and even finer things found in foreign restaurants might satisfy these mice. Except for Smalls, of course. He would eat anything…

As Daniel neared The Wheel, he looked around at all the sites on the streets. He loved watching the humans. He would even pick up habits and tips from them, mostly about the best ways to sell newspapers. His entire world revolved around his work, not that he wanted it to. No, though Daniel had once dreamed of becoming a newsboy in his younger days, he now had a new dream. He wanted more. More adventure. What more could being a newsie give him other than a few cents a day and fair shot at being popular down in the society below?

"Daniel!" a sweet voice called out from the alley by The Wheel.

It was Abigail.

"Oh, hiya, Catch," Daniel said unenthusiastically, slowly taking his eyes off of the world above.

"Well, come on! The meeting's about to start!"

Daniel sighed, ready to call it a day after selling newspapers until 4:00. He turned away from the view of the shops and traders, the hustle and the bustle, and he headed into a crack in the alley wall that led to The Wheel's cellar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2-**

**_The Meeting_**

A tiny light clicked on in the cellar above an empty spool that served as a table. Smalls was sitting in a dollhouse-made rocking chair, his hat pulled over his eyes, arms crossed, foot rocking him back and forth from the table. Abigail adjusted her hair into a messy bun with several strands hanging before her eyes. Daniel was leaning heavily on the table, arms crossed under his chin. His eyes were closed. Everyone was tired. Sundays were usually the worst selling days on account of having to go to Mass, thus having to sell late.

There were other newsies at the meeting as well. There was Jamesy, a tough spotted mouse with rather large ears and a smile that could make anyone return it. He was known as one of the most handsome mice around. There was also Turk, a mouse who had each foot a different color. He wore denim over-alls and a purple bandanna tied around his neck. And finally, there was Ascot. He never spoke, but he had a great range of expressions that got his thoughts across. These, of course, were not the only Manhattan newsie mice, but they were the only ones who ever cared enough to attend the meeting… and they cared very little.

Jamesy sat forward on his chair of an old thimble. "So, how much has everyone raised?" he asked, high expectations.

Almost nobody looked up as they grunted and set their money on the table. Abigail, however, took a liking to Jamesy. She smiled and lightly put her money down. "Good, good," Jamesy smiled, looking over it all. The currency that mice used was simply smaller versions of American human currency. Pennies, nickels, and dimes were the most common seen, but some had dollars and even hundred dollars just as well. They were just smaller, you see.

About 10 percent of the money that the newsies collected went toward fixing up their home in the sewers whether they wanted it to or not. But that was okay. Most of the Manhattan mice enjoyed being a newsie anyway. It was chance to see many great things and to meet many great people. And what's a lousy 10 percent when you're living your dream? Jamesy collected the 10 percent of the profit and put it in a special bag. He was the son of the mayor.

As most stories go, you're probably thinking Jamesy to be a rather rude individual. But this is not true. Jamesy was neither greedy nor crude, but he did have a lot of power— not that he would ever use it against someone. He was just highly respected and well thought of, as was his father.

"Okay, now," Jamesy smiled, looking up. "Smalls, looks like you made da most today!"

"Goody for me," Smalls replied, bored face, not looking up. He continued to rock in his chair.

Jamesy gave a chuckle and asked, "So where's your spot?"

"I mostly sold around that ice-cream shop owned by that Catholic guy," Smalls said itching his nose with a loud sniff. The others laughed. "He means Meyer's place," Daniel said, looking up to Jamesy with a rugged smile. The newsies retrieved their earnings and tucked them away.

Nothing much ever happened at the meetings. Mostly they sat around and chatted for an hour after Jamesy had stopped going on about what their little society beneath needed to improve on.

The mice discussed all sorts of topics from the weather to their favorite foods. They joked around and laughed all evening.

"How about that monster at the warehouse?" Turk laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. "Yeah, I hoid about dat," Smalls said, dropping his smile. "But it's nut'n to laugh at, Turk…" All the others dropped their conversations and turned to hear Smalls. Smalls sat forward and began the tale that he had heard from who-knows-where…


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_**Rumors**_

"Dey say dere's a terrible beast living in dat warehouse," Smalls began. "I hoid it was a hundred feet tall and it breaths fire!"

"Dat's not what I hoid, Smalls," Turk cut in, laughing. "No one's see it, dummy. Not yet." Turk blinked slowly and sat back in his makeshift seat, leaning against the wall of the huge cellar. Daniel was always one for adventure, as was Smalls. Daniel suddenly stood and pushed his soft paws against the table. "Well, then," he smiled, eyes lighting up. "Let's go see it for ourselves!"

Groans filled the area. "Aw, Danny boy," Jamesy said, rolling his eyes and placing a splinter that he had been using as a toothpick into his mouth.

"We all know how much you love to get yourself into trouble, but this could be dangerous," Abigail said, shaking her head.

"Yeah," Turk agreed. "For all we know, dis could be a couple'a kids wit a megaphone. Maybe even a cat trying to claim its territory. Mice has been hearing t'ings about dis, though. Growling and threats about demons and stuff," he said, sighing and looking around.

Daniel looked around the table and eventually caught eyes with Ascot. All he did was sit with a frown and high eyebrows. Daniel smirked at Ascot's unresponsive face, but his head went up a bit when he appeared to have remembered something. "Wait," everyone looked up as he started. "Isn't the signing tomorrow?"

Everyone exchanged surprised glances. How could they have forgotten? The signing was indeed the next day. This was a big event for the Manhattan mice. The mice of Brooklyn had suggested it to them. Jamsey's father was quite fond of the mayor of the Brooklyn mice. You see, for quite some time now, mice have been trying to find ways to leave their names known to the next generations. Something new is done once every few years, as mice don't live quite as long as humans do. This year's celebration included the Bronx mice and those of Manhattan together. They were each to take paint and write their names on the side of a large building. 'This will baffle those humans for sure,' the mayor thought.

Ah, yes. The signing would take place at the warehouse where the 'beast' was said to lie. It was an abandoned building, yes, so why would anything be sneaking around in there? Whatever the reason, this was Daniel's chance at a whole new kind of adventure. This was something bigger than him that he was totally ready for.

"It won't be any problem! We'll sign our names and slip away into 'da warehouse. It'll be easy as pie!" Daniel was always quite confident in himself, but he wanted to see what adventure this held for him, whether it meant danger or not. "So what do ya' say?" Daniel smiled, looking around at everyone present.

There was a moment of pause as almost everyone exchanged looks, wondering what to do. Suddenly, Ascot stood and put a paw on Daniel's shoulder with a smile. "All right!" Daniel said, high-fiving him. "Come on, anyone else?" he said in a persuasive tone.

"You can count me in, Daniel! No way I'm going to let you have all 'da fun wit 'dis!" Smalls said, finally getting up from his chair and walking over to Daniel.

"Me, too!" shouted Turk, rushing over to join the others.

"Fine, fine," Abigail sighed, eyes closed. "But only because you'll need someone there when the four of you get hurt.

"I knew you couldn't resist a great adventure," Daniel said, eyelids halfway down, an arm around her shoulder. "That's why you're such a _catch_," he smirked. Abigail made a disgusted face and she rolled her eyes, using a paw to remove his arm from around her.

"Well I'll go with you, Abigail. Someone has to keep these guys out trouble, and Catch can't do it on her own," Jamesy said, feeling quite proud of himself. Daniel stuck out his tongue but Abigail just fawned over Jamesy's 'bravery'.

"So it's settled 'den!" Smalls said, pulling everyone together tightly in his arms. "Tomorrow at the signing, we'll slip off and find 'dis beastie!"


End file.
